


Take me up this time

by nitorisource



Category: Free!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, M/M, Multi, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-27
Updated: 2014-08-27
Packaged: 2018-02-15 00:14:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2208381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nitorisource/pseuds/nitorisource
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kisumi doesn't intend to allow Sousuke to have Makoto all to himself, and coaxing them into a threesome isn't as difficult as it should have been.</p><p>a.k.a. another attempt at writing porn</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take me up this time

**Author's Note:**

> there was that [soumakokisu threesome](http://soumakofics.tumblr.com/post/95305004566/woops-theyre-all-around-the-same-height-and-the) i talked about last week and i tried to write it but felt uninspired halfway through but someone asked that i post what i have orz forgive me

“Makoto, give me some of yours.” Sousuke takes his straw out of his drink and uses it to point at the bowl in Makoto’s hands.

“You hate shaved ice, don’t you?” That was why, after all, Sousuke ordered nothing but a glass of water. He said he’d eat later, since practice was out early for the both of them.

“Just feed me, alright?” He says, closing his eyes and leaning across the table with a waiting mouth. Makoto lets out a small laugh before obliging, laughing a little louder when Sousuke makes a displeased face at the taste. “Do you want more?” he asks, hovering a giant heap of it in front of Sousuke’s face.

“I’d rather have a taste of you, right now,” he says in a low voice, leaning over and pressing his lips against Makoto’s. They’re cold, still soft, and taste like strawberry syrup.

The response isn’t what he expects. The brunet immediately recoils and places a hand over his mouth to stifle his sudden fit of laughter. “Did you really just say that?” Makoto forces out, wiping at the corner of his eye. Sousuke gets just a little red in the face as he turns away and pouts, and Makoto has to bring him back with tiny apologies, wrapping an arm around Sousuke’s broad shoulders.

Sometimes, he’s still so surprised how easily affected Sousuke is when it comes to his teasing. Before they’d gotten to know one another (in a pretty absurd way, that involved Makoto socking him in the face), Makoto was rather deterred by his cold demeanor, and would never have guessed how soft he really was inside.

Sousuke starts to bargain for a kiss without the laughing involved, and as Makoto tries to feed him more shaved ice, someone comes up to them from behind.

“Makoto!” The person claps both hands on Makoto’s shoulder, startling him bad enough to drop his spoonful of ice all over Sousuke’s lap.

“Ah, Sousuke, I’m sorry!” he says, glancing back as he tries to clean it up with a napkin. “Oh, Kisumi? What are you doing here?”

“I was only passing by,” he says cheerily, resting his chin on the top of Makoto’s head and helping himself to some shaved ice. “Is Haruka not with you today?” he asks, spoon still in his mouth

“He’s gone back to the SC to practice with Nagisa and Rei.”

“Oh - and so you’re here with Sousuke instead?” asks, turning his attention to where Sousuke has been sitting quietly. He regards Kisumi with a less than friendly look, upset that his alone time has been disturbed.

Kisumi’s eyes flit back and forth from the two other boys and he pauses for a second before finally saying, “Ah. Ahh. Don’t tell me the two of you are dating?” Without giving either of them a chance to answer, he pulls out a chair from a nearby table and seats himself beside Makoto, slinging an arm over his shoulder and leaning to face Sousuke, before dramatically lamenting, “What a shame! My two childhood friends got together while I wasn’t looking? And here I thought I could win you back now that we’ve reunited, Mako.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sousuke asks, raising an eyebrow at the two of them.

Makoto averts his eyes out across the street and says tautly, “Well, in middle - “

“I thought I could have him fall in love with me by being his first kiss in middle school,” Kisumi interjects, tightening his arm around Makoto. “Shall we try again now? It might awaken your feelings for me after all.”

Sousuke chooses to ignore the second half of Kisumi’s words and instead asks, “First kiss?” It doesn’t sound like such a big deal to him but Makoto still can’t meet either of their eyes and his blushing deeply.

“Among other first things,” Kisumi adds with a sly smile.

Oh, god.

“Kisumi - “

Sousuke reacts with a shocked expression. He doesn’t want to hear anything more - and yet, he has to admit, he is a little curious. First of all, why Kisumi? He wasn’t even aware they were that close. And the thought that Makoto might have already done everything with this smug, pink haired bastard makes his chest flame with frustration.

* * *

 

Makoto isn’t entirely sure how he ended up in this situation, but he’s already stripped bare and laying against his cold sheets while Kisumi looms over him, hands planted firmly on the mattress on either side of Makoto’s head, peering down at him with an expression that Makoto hasn’t seen from those violet eyes in too long.

“Why do you look so nervous, Makoto?” he purrs, leaning down to press a starting kiss below Makoto’s jaw. Instinctively, Makoto cranes his head back, inviting Kisumi’s lips to brush father down against the heated skin of his neck, and Kisumi obliges almost hungrily.

He feels Makoto’s low moan rumble through his throat as one of his hands slides down to loosely grasp Makoto’s fully erect cock. “Already, Makoto? It seems like your body has missed me.”

The mattress creeks beneath Sousuke’s weight and he impatiently nudges Kisumi out of the way, settling in the space between Makoto’s legs as he spreads them apart. Kisumi doesn’t mind the interruption, lips still trailing across Makoto’s collarbones. When his fingers begin to trace up Makoto’s ribs, he can’t help but shudder at the feeling of two sets of hands moving across different areas of his skin.

“Kisumi, stop talking already,” Sousuke mutters. Makoto can feel his every word breathed hotly against the base of his cock, and he squirms on the bed, trying to keep his mouth shut.

“Sousuke, you’re still jealous, aren’t you?” he teases, kissing into the shallow between Makoto’s collarbones. He continues to move down with his mouth, lips brushing against the soft, pink skin of Makoto’s nipples, eliciting a sudden gasp. “Does Sousuke play with you here, too?”

Makoto hears a low growl before feeling Sousuke take his tip in his mouth, tongue swirling over his slit and under the corona. Another small moan forces its way out of Makoto’s lips before he can clap a hand over his mouth, and he squeezes his eyes shut as Sousuke begins to jerk him off in slow strokes, his tongue still working, almost teasingly, with the head of his cock, while his other hand continues to hold Makoto’s trembling thigh away to keep his legs apart.

Kisumi, stirred on by Makoto’s voice, takes Makoto’s nipple lightly between his teeth and begins to suck while his other hand reaches up and pinches his other one, rolling it between his thumb and index finger.

“Ki-sumi,” Makoto gasps out, back slightly arching off the mattress. He can feel the way Kisumi’s wet lips curl into a smile against his chest.

Sousuke begins to take him down a little deeper.

Makoto isn’t sure how he’s supposed to keep his voice down at this point; the stimulation is too much, and with each moan he releases, the more enthusiastic the other two easily become, as though it’s a competition to see which of them can make his resolve crack first.

“H-hey,” he says, trying to push Kisumi away by the shoulder and sitting up so that Sousuke has to move as well. “You can… let me.”

Makoto’s shaking fingers begin to undo the knot of Kisumi’s tie, and he tosses that to the floor before he works on each of the buttons of the school uniform. The skin underneath is so fair and even, Makoto can’t help but trail his finger down Kisumi’s chest, eyes lingering as well.

“Keep moving, Makoto,” Kisumi says, placing a finger beneath Makoto’s chin and tipping his face up to meet his eyes. He turns away, clearly embarrassed, and begins to fumble around with the belt as Kisumi graciously spreads his legs open for him. He pulls down Kisumi’s light pink boxers and grips his cock tightly, staring at it for a few moments until Kisumi’s staring becomes too much for Makoto to deal with.

He starts out slowly, licking apprehensively up Kisumi’s length before engulfing the tip and continuing to swirl his tongue over the smooth skin. He hears the way Kisumi’s breath hitches at the sensation, so he gags as he tries to swallow more of him, until he feels the head of Kisumi’s cock hitting the back of his throat, his fist still working around the part of Kisumi’s shaft he still struggles to swallow. When a cold, slicked up finger starts to press against his asshole, Makoto flinches, and he moves his mouth even lower onto Kisumi's dick, unable to do anything more than hum his muffled moan around what's filling his mouth once Sousuke's finger slides into him.

He begins to suck and stroke Kisumi with a slow rhythm, Kisumi moving his hips up to meet Makoto's hot, wet, panting mouth until Makoto pushes himself up, Kisumi's dick leaving his lips with a soft _pop_.

"Don't move like that," Makoto chastises. Somehow, his tone isn't the usual light and flippant tone that can't be taken seriously. His eyes seem to have darkened with authority, daring Kisumi to talk back to him, and he's so caught off guard by the shift in attitude that he merely nods his head and makes a note not to move. Makoto finds his response adequate enough, so he resumes and wraps his mouth around Kisumi's dick once again, angling and turning his head so that he can have Kisumi's tip rubbing and poking against the walls of his cheeks, giving Kisumi something lewd to look at. 

“H-holy shit,” Kisumi hisses, throwing his head back and shutting his eyes. Makoto is spurred on by the sound of profanity leaving that pretty mouth and he forces all of Kisumi’s length down his throat, holding himself there and choking out a moan when he feels Sousuke slip in another finger, stretching him out and pressing against the walls of his ass. Finally, Makoto lifts his head, and a thin trail of saliva droops between Makoto’s lip and the head of Kisumi’s dick, and Kisumi whines loudly at the absence as Makoto sits up, Sousuke removing his fingers.

“Makoto -- don’t tease me like this,” he says, pouting as he props himself up on his elbows.

“Then beg me a little first, or I won't let you come.”

A beat passes, Kisumi and Sousuke both shocked into silence.

Kisumi is quick to it. “Makoto, please, please suck me off. _Fuck_ , I need it, I - “ he reaches forward to trace a finger under Makoto’s chin, but he bats it away, eyes hard yet amused at the same time.

“That’s no good.” Makoto shakes his head and moves even farther away from Kisumi’s outstretched fingertips and perches himself close to the edge of the bed, smiling sweetly as he says, “I changed my mind. You and Sousuke - get me in the mood together. I want to watch.”

“What?” Sousuke is just about ready to protest, but Kisumi reaches out, grabs him by the upper arm, and yanks the taller boy towards him.

“What’s wrong, Sousuke? Am I not appealing enough for you?” he asks, mouth still set in a pout, as he positions himself to straddle Sousuke’s hips. God, this guy really likes being on top, doesn’t he? Sousuke is quick to switch their positions, rolling Kisumi over and holding him to the mattress by his upper arms.

“Didn’t I tell you to shut up?” he growls. “You’re just desperate for a blowjob.”

“So what if I am? You probably know better than I how well Makoto gives them.” Kisumi is still able to lean up and press his lips to Sousuke’s, and Sousuke’s earlier resistance somehow falls to pieces, probably due to a mixture of his impatience and frustration with this whole situation. It’s not that he’s jealous of Kisumi, but he’s all but monopolized Makoto and he’s fed up with it.

He crushes his lips to Kisumi’s with renewed enthusiasm, not letting up when Kisumi starts to yelp for breath. The way Sousuke kisses is unrefined at best. He’s driven entirely by instinct like some kind of animal, unlike the careful and delicate finesse Kisumi employs, but it’s not entirely a bad thing, either. Even when Sousuke scrapes Kisumi’s bottom lip with his teeth, or pinches his lips against his teeth, or bites down too hard, or crudely forces his tongue into his mouth, Kisumi relents to the force.

Sousuke tugs Kisumi’s bottom lip between his teeth, clamps down a little too hard. Kisumi winces, lets out something between a moan and a shriek, and registers the bitter and metallic taste of blood.

Kisumi jerks his head to the side to break Sousuke’s mouth from his, snarling at the sharp pain blooming across the cut in his lip. One of his hands trails down the tight space between their bodies and he palms at the bulge in Sousuke’s boxers, bringing that fierce expression right off of Sousuke’s face and replacing it with shut eyes and a tight-lipped mouth, sound reverberating reluctantly in his throat.

“Let your voice out,” Kisumi purrs, reaching beneath the waistband of Sousuke’s boxers and yanking it down to his thighs with his other hand. Kisumi manages to swap their positions again, Sousuke’s cock grasped loosely in his hand as he sits up on top of Sousuke and bucks his hips forward to rub their erections together.

Sousuke gasps out, but catches himself and replaces it with another menacing frown, glaring Kisumi in the eye.

“If it feels good, you should show it. It really turns Makoto on to hear his lover moan. Don’t you know?” he asks, his own low moan laced between his taunting words. He leans down so that their chests are flush against one another, his hand clasped loosely around both their cocks and moving slowly, rhythmically, coaxing Sousuke into arching his back off the mattress, eager for more friction.

“Nng…”

“That’s better. Come on.” He nuzzles his face against Sousuke’s throat, breathing hotly, though not quite kissing him yet, and enjoys the feeling of Sousuke’s strangled moans thrumming through his neck. They're like this for a few moments, not even noticing that Makoto's started to finger himself watching them.

“Mm, that’s enough.” Makoto crawls back to where they’re laying and softly nudges Kisumi out of the way, though Kisumi's very reluctant to do so at first.

“Makoto?” Sousuke asks breathily, propping himself up into a sitting position.

“Will you moan like that for me, too?” Makoto presses him back flat on the mattress with a deep kiss, tasting a hint of the blood he drew from Kisumi earlier. It’s short lived, though, and Makoto starts to pull away, much to Sousuke's displeasure. He wants to reach out and pull him back down onto him, but Makoto casts him a look that threatens, _'Don't touch me.'_

"Don't move, okay, Sousuke?" he says in a too-sweet voice. He positions himself so that his back is to Sousuke, and he begins to jerk him off, slicking his cock with more lube, before carefully lowering himself onto Sousuke. His entire body shudders with delight when he feels the tip enter, and he lets out a loud, uninhibited moan, face awash with pleasure, all the apprehension from the start completely _gone_. Just watching and hearing him like this makes Kisumi's dick twitch, begging for attention again. Makoto seems to see this, his mouth turning up smugly, and he leans forward, chest flush against the mattress, and begins to stroke Kisumi, still easing himself onto Sousuke's dick.

" _Fuck_ , Makoto," Sousuke breathes out.

“Makoto. Makoto, god, it feels so fucking good,” Kisumi seethes, eyes shut tight. Even though Makoto ordered him earlier to keep his hips still against the mattress he can’t help the way he tries to subtly roll his hips to match the way Makoto’s head bobs up and down over his cock, and Makoto has resorted to painfully digging his fingers into Kisumi’s hips to keep him there.

“Don’t,” he says sharply, lifting his mouth from Kisumi’s dick, lips slick with saliva and precum. “Don’t come yet.” He clamps his lips onto the side of Kisumi’s length, fingers moving up the other side and stroking over the head of his cock in quick, flicking, teasing movements, before dragging his tongue back up and taking the tip into his mouth once more.

“But, when you - like - like that - “

Shit, it’s no use. The heat that’s been building up in his gut is just about ready to let loose, just a few more seconds of Makoto’s stroking and licking and -

“Fuck! Ow, Makoto!”

Makoto is still lapping at the precum beaded on the slit of Kisumi’s cock, but he’s got one hand wrapped tightly - and fucking painfully - around the base of his dick, effectively extinguishing Kisumi’s hope of cumming all across Makoto’s lusting face.

“Let go!” He means to sound angry, but he’s sure he only sounds desperate and needy, because he damn well is. He was so close, and since this is probably the third time Makoto’s done this to him, tears of frustration are already welling in his eyes. "Please, let go, I want to come."

Makoto scoff, and Kisumi freezes. He was absolutely fine earlier with the thought of begging and pleading, but now that it seems like Makoto is getting enjoyment out of it, he feels himself overwhelmed with humiliation. 

Makoto doesn't allow him to suffer too long, however, and soon he's swallowing as much of Kisumi as he can again, sucking with more enthusiasm than he's shown before.

Kisumi tries to warn him when he's ready to come, but nothing but lengthy moans leave his mouth. He tries to push Makoto away with a shaking hand, but someone manages to cup it over the back of Makoto's head instead, pushing down as he finally begins to spill into Makoto's mouth. Surprisingly, _thankfully_ , Makoto isn't upset - he's caught a little off guard, but he diligently swallows what he can while Kisumi's desperate shouting finally starts to fall into quiet, spent panting.

Sousuke has been surprisingly dormant and quiet through this entire thing, sitting still with his dick shoved deep into Makoto's ass though ordered not to move. Now, finally, Makoto sits up and starts to grind and lift his hips against Sousuke. He wants so desperately to be able to hold Makoto by his hips, to thrust faster and harder into Makoto rather than have the teasingly slow rhythm that Makoto has established, but it doesn't take long for Makoto to quicken the pace, fingers grasping Sousuke's thighs as he does so. He's moaning out Sousuke's name breathlessly, unable to think or say anything else.

Finally, Sousuke can't stand just laying there, writhing and moaning, so he sits up, wrapping one arm around Makoto's waist and using his free hand to stroke Makoto's dripping cock. He seems to be too lost in pleasure to note the disobedience and he turns his head back so that his lips can reach Sousuke's.

Sousuke is the first to come, and pulling out doesn't even cross his mind as he spills into Makoto, still thrusting up as he rides his orgasm out. He feels the way Makoto clenches around him in response, and moments later, Makoto is crying out against Sousuke's mouth, splattering over the covers and over where Kisumi is still laying, looking exhausted and half asleep and a little delirious all at once.

* * *

 

Sousuke is too worn out to shake Kisumi off his arm, so he lets the dazed, pink-haired boy nuzzle up to him while they sit and wait for Makoto to return from the kitchen. If anything, it’s that guy who should be exhausted and sore, but he’s rustling around making tea and preparing something to eat like the past three hours didn’t happen at all.

Anyway, where did all that come from? The bossy and authoritative tone, threatening them not to cum too early, sucking cock like he did it for a goddamn living…

Sousuke isn’t upset that he never knew this side of Makoto. If anything, he’s excited, if not also a tiny bit afraid.

There’s the sound of the front door unlocking and even Kisumi has the decency to move away from Sousuke, scooting all the way to the other end of the couch. Two small children come bounding into the living room after one another, shouting, “Onii-chan! We’re home!”

Makoto steps out of the kitchen and raises the tray in his hands as the children wrap their arms on other side of Makoto’s much taller frame, and he smiles warmly down at them.

“Did you thank Akira-san for walking you back home?” he asks them. They nod eagerly, not planning to let go of their brother anytime soon. “You two are hungry, right? I bought cookies before I got home, but don’t tell Mom, okay? She says you can’t have sweets, but this will be our secret,” he says, moving the tray to his other hand so that he can place a finger to his lips and give them a sly smile.

They start to proclaim their boundless love for their generous brother, until Ran takes notice of their guests. “Onii-chan, who are those people on our couch?” she asks, tugging on his sleeve.

“Is Haru-chan not with you today?” Ren adds.

“My friends, Sousuke and Kisume. You’ve seen them once before, right? Haru is at the pool, as expected.”

From there, Ren and Ran have no qualms about bothering their big brother’s friends, crawling into their laps and drinking the tea meant for Kisumi and Sousuke. They start their barrage of questions earnestly, asking, “What are you so grumpy about?” or “Is my onii-chan a good friend?” or “How come your hair is wet? Was it raining earlier?” or “Do you swim too?” or “Do you have a girlfriend yet?”

Sousuke doesn’t exactly love or hate children, but he’s fucking exhausted and, truth be told, feels dirty in the presence of these two poor innocent things, who are oblivious to the activities that have taken place under their roof, with their own beloved brother at that.

Kisumi wonders, too, how Makoto can act so collected. Does it come from practice, this ability to act like he’s forgotten he was screaming in pleasure and being hammered in the ass? He’s not sure he’d be able to act exactly as natural as this if Hayato showed up minutes after he was finished.

Makoto sits back in his own seat, laughing from time to time as the questions get more personal and embarrassing. Kisumi and Sousuke have no choice to entertain the twins despite their exhaustion, the two of them giving one another sidelong glances from time to time, eyes screaming, “Did we even fuck the right person a while ago?”

**Author's Note:**

> i have no words to explain myself except sorry


End file.
